Nice was looking its loveliest, but to Usk, making his way along the Promenade des Anglais in the direction of the Villa Bougainvillea, it was not lovely at all. He was uneasy and troubled in mind, and thoroughly out of tune with his surroundings, and with the gay groups of well-dressed people he met. The palms and the sunshine, the blue sea and the white houses set in flowers and greenery, all jarred with his mood. Not another word had reached him from Félicia herself or from Maimie, but although he had only arrived the night before, there had been time to learn that the Baron von Neuburg now divided his abundant leisure and his _petits soins_ between the Grand-Duchess Sonya and a beautiful American girl who was staying with the fascinating grass-widow, Mrs van Zyl. Even now, as he turned into one of the side-avenues, in order to reach the smart white house nestling in its groves of orange- and lemon-trees, he met a motor-car of the latest and most elaborate construction, and recognised in the two men who occupied it, disguised as they were by huge spectacles and mackintosh coats and caps, King Michael and Captain Andreivics. He saw a meaning glance pass between them as they returned his salute, and he walked on faster, reaching the villa quickly enough to find the two ladies who had shared the drive still lingering on the rose-hung piazza in front of the house. They wore businesslike dust-proof gowns, edged and faced with highly decorated leather, and their faces were hidden by long gauze veils crossed behind and tied, French fashion, under the chin, but Félicia’s exquisite figure was unmistakable, and Usk mounted the steps without waiting for an invitation. He was received with a little shriek. “Well, now, I was sort of expecting you!” cried Félicia. “It’s just wonderful how one’s friends find one out. Sadie, this is Viscount Usk, the son of the kind folks that have been boarding Maimie and me all winter.” A kind of chill ran through Usk’s veins. “She hasn’t even told the woman of our engagement!” he said to himself. “Awfully good of you to come so soon!” said Mrs van Zyl, a small, sharp-featured woman with artificially bleached hair and a high voice. “I guess we must change these horrid gowns now, but maybe you’ll _five o’cloquer_ with us this afternoon. I know there are just about three hundred people coming.” “You are very kind,” said Usk, then he turned to Félicia. “I will come at any time when it is convenient for _you_ to see me,” he said pointedly. “Well, I don’t see but you can do that at tea,” she replied. “Say, Lord Usk, we can’t have you monopolise Miss Steinherz!” cried Mrs van Zyl. “She’s just about the most popular girl in Nice, and she’s getting fresh invitations all the time.” “I won’t detain her long,” said Usk, not offering to withdraw. “Ah, you’re bringing some message from your mother!” said Félicia. “You come this afternoon, any way, and I’ll see you have a chance to deliver it.”